


The Day You Wake Up Needing Somebody

by orphan_account



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:27:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Utterly fatigued with stress and pain, Sarah stumbles through different phases of consciousness while Helena tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Day You Wake Up Needing Somebody

**Author's Note:**

> "You trembled like you'd seen a ghost  
> And I gave in...  
> I lack the things you need the most  
> You said, 'Where have you been?'  
> You wasted all that sweetness  
> to run and hide."  
> \--Ellie Goulding, Explosions
> 
> IMPORTANT: This is Sarah's POV

I wake up to the gentle rock of my body. The shower stall presses into my shoulder blades as I somehow rock into it, and then slowly fall back into place. I don’t think I’m standing. My knees tremble and ache, but I can’t feel anything below them.

A pulse throbs at the vulnerable juncture of my hands, a weak murmur, praying for blood.

Gravity feels so heavy here; it pulls my eyelids down with gentle fingertips and whispers in my ear: _Sleep now, love, and rest your ache._

The familiar lilt of the voice brings up fuzzy memories of gentle, caressing hands that dip tea bags into hot water and stroke my hair.

“Sarah…,” a different voice murmurs against my skin—too close. An accent wraps around each word like gauze around flesh and blood. It crashes into the voice in my head with a discordant screech, and—

Gravity leans over my shoulder, voiceless now, and slides a hand over my eyes.  

~~ X ~~

“Sarah, Sarah.”

I raise my head from where it lulled in gentle rhythm. I can feel the heavy hand of sleep still weighing on my shoulder.

A haggard woman stares into my eyes from the mirror. She leans against the shower stall with her hands hanging on both sides. Broken pieces of plastic wrap around the metal bar above her. She looks tired.  Dark bags bow deep into her cheeks and hold her empty eyes like cupped hands.

I lay folded against the body of this dazed woman with my hands gripping her shoulders desperately, rocking gently. My head nuzzles the crux of her neck as I take deep, steadying breaths.

The strange position of the mirror allows me to see the dried clumps of mud clinging to my dirty, blonde hair. I try to comb my fingers through the mess, but my arm refuses to cooperate. It remains wrapped around the woman, kneading desperately. Instead, the woman does it for me. Her fingers tease my scalp gently, careful not to tug, and I sigh against her neck. My skin suddenly feels hot and wet.  

“Helena,” the woman breathes, and my eyes connect with the woman. I mirror her lips as she says my name. Her eyebrows furrow and I copy her, leaning forward, but the mirror doesn’t show me move. Something is wrong. Her eyes are dark wells brimming with a horrifying secret that only she can know. She terrifies me.

The woman’s eyelids flutter closed just as the world dims around me.

~~ X ~~

“Wake up, Sestra,” Helena whispers. Instantly, my brain whirs with sudden clarity and sets every gear grinding together to form thought. My eyelids snap open and blink against burning light. Where are we?

“Where’s Kira?” I gasp, combining all my thoughts at once. I turn my head away from the light and blink against the red stain behind my eyelids. Two hands grab my shoulder and pull me into a sit-up position. There’s a soft rustle and then the hands let me sag into a warm body.

“Shh,” she whispers in my ear, “You drink now.”

A half-full water bottle swings before my eyes. I watch as the two hands work to unscrew the cap, tip my head back, and then press the mouth against my lip. Cool liquid floods my throat and I fight to keep from sputtering it all up.

Blindly, my hands find the plastic bottle and grip it fiercely. I tip it back, ignoring the soft reminders in my ear “too fast, too fast” and suck all the contents until the bottle is no more than a thin, wrinkled piece of plastic.

My hands fall back to my side and I sag further into her body. She pulls my hair off my neck, and my eyelids begin to feel heavy again.

“Kira…,” I groan as I lean my head back into Helena. She presses her nose into the back of my head and I can feel her chest expand as she takes a deep breath. The familiarity of her odd affection is a strange comfort when everything else is a senseless blur. At least she is consistent. 

“Angel will be safe.”

I can’t remember if she’s in danger, I don’t think she is, but the answer is good enough. The water has begun to seep into my bones. I sink deep into her body as my head rolls to the side.

I’m so heavy I could crack the cement beneath me and trickle into the endless darkness within.

Distantly, I feel her arms tighten around me. My hands graze the floor before slowly lifting along with my body. My head lolls with the rhythm of her step. Gravity sits in the bowels of my soul as she carries me. I wonder how she could possibly bear my weight when I can barely keep my head from falling off my shoulders.

How did I ever manage a single step? How did I pull myself up from Amelia’s crumpled body on the warehouse floor?

How did I step over your body on my way out? 

**Author's Note:**

> Exercised a change of narrative in this story, so I hope you didn't get lost!


End file.
